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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807366">Poppies For Young Men</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeincluded/pseuds/coffeeincluded'>coffeeincluded</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Beasts Within [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Established Relationship, Ferdibert Flashbang (Fire Emblem), M/M, Romantic Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:28:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeincluded/pseuds/coffeeincluded</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Garland Moon, once a time for lovers, was now a time for war. But life, and love, continued regardless. Perhaps another moon would do.</p><p>For the Ferdibert valentines flashbang!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Beasts Within [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ferdibert Gang Valentine Flashbang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Poppies For Young Men</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this fic was part of the Ferdibert server flashbang, and I got to work with Travastila on it. A huge thank you to Travastila for the adorable art, and thank you all for being patient while life got in the way of the final touches and posting of this fic and helping me with ideas!</p><p>As a note: I consider this canon in The Who We Are-verse; as such I’m a little bit vague on the details. Since, you know, the butterflies are starting to add up and the timeskip and war phase will be...different.</p><p>Also, Edelgard, Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Petra are out of town for this fic. Linhardt and Caspar are working in the empire for the winter. The status on anybody else would constitute spoilers. ;)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Winter was Hubert’s favorite season. He enjoyed the calm and quiet, the way snow blanketed the world and sent it into dormancy. The stillness that a lesser mind would equate with death. It sometimes felt as if that white canvas swept the world clean, and when he and Thanily went outside on their daily walks, black hair and orange fur contrasting against the snow, they were able to reshape the world in their image. Her Majesty’s image, for they were in many ways one and the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, although not even the most vicious torture would loosen his tongue, this was the time of year when Pegasi foaled. He always found it calming, watching their gangly legs kick in the air as they chased after their mothers in that clumsy first flight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert was so engrossed in the sight, in fact, that he did not notice Ferdinand’s approach until the sound of his boots crunching through snow was embarrassingly loud and close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ferdinand, are you also here to check how the future war mounts are faring?” Hubert lied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand responded by slipping his hands around Hubert’s waist and settling his strong chin on his bony shoulders. “Of course,” he lied in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert sighed and relaxed ever-so-slightly into Ferdinand’s embrace. He did not turn around to gaze at Ferdinand or do any other silly and cliche romantic gesture, but Thanily did yip a greeting to Embrienne. Ferdinand’s honeybee daemon buzzed around them both and bumped her fuzzy body against Thanily’s nose; his fox daemon nuzzled against her in response. “The foals should be ready for initial training by Garland Moon, though it will be a few years more before they are grown and ready for battle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm.” Ferdinand slumped ever so slightly against his shoulders. “Hopefully the war will have drawn to a close by then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, once Her Majesty finalizes this treaty with Brigid, we will have much-needed reinforcements and complete dominion over the western seas.” He should have been with her, at her side in Brigid, but Emperor Edelgard had been very insistent. He was needed in Adrestia to maintain stability and keep things in order while the majority of the war effort was on hiatus for the winter. Similarly, Ferdinand was needed on the bureaucratic front to maintain supply lines and the like so they could resume with minimal fuss once the snow melted and the spring thaw arrived. She could trust nobody else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand sighed and played his fingers over the buttons of Hubert’s jacket--nothing lewd, just something for his hands to do rather than freeze. “I know. Hubert, I have stood by you and Emperor Edelgard through everything. I know all too well the corruption and rot that has infested too much of the nobility. I made my choice down there in the Holy Tomb, heard just what “Her Holiness” did to our professor, saw with my own eyes the monster she revealed herself to be. I have not wavered from that path since. I know this war is necessary, but that does not mean I enjoy it. I am not saying that you revel in bloodshed!” he hastily added, sweeping away the shard of pain that suddenly bloomed in Hubert at the implication in Ferdinand’s previous sentence. “I simply…” He broke off, collecting his thoughts. That was already such a change from the Ferdinand of old, who would run his opinions roughshod over everyone else’s, and only see the carnage when he bothered or was made to look back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Garland Moon has always been a time of warmth and romance,” Embrienne said, gently hovering by Thanily. “A time when lovers make flower crowns to give to those they hold most dear. But now the Garland Moon is a time of war, of armies marching through muddy fields, and the only flowers for young men and women shall be laid on their graves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you a poetic one.” Thanily flicked her tail at Embrienne. It would be reminiscent of someone shooing off a particularly irksome fly if not for the half-hearted motion and the softness in the fox daemon’s eyes. “In that case, we shall have to win the war all the more quickly, so we can celebrate more Garland Moons. After all, the sooner we win the war, the sooner we will have a true peace, not the mockery that the church enforced.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, but it is still rather sad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sudden chill curled around Hubert as Ferdinand detached himself from his waist, in order to move closer to his side. Embrienne landed on Ferdinand’s hand; he watched with a fond smile as she walked from fingertip to fingertip. Ferdinand’s hands were so close to his; it would be so easy for Embrienne to just walk onto his gloved and scarred fingertips. But the mere thought of Embrienne </span>
  <em>
    <span>touching</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, even under soft leather, well, that sent his head spinning. Best not to think about that. Better to think about more productive ways to spend the winter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose there is something romantic about the snow,” Ferdinand was saying beside him, leaning over the fence. The snow was gently falling now, dusting his bright orange hair (as bright as his dear Thanily’s fur) white. When he spoke, his breath was visible in little puffs. It was so shallow to equate winter with death. Was not the evidence to the contrary right before his eyes? In the way his life was so vibrant in the fog of his breath and the chatter of his teeth and the pink of his nose?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert could not deny Ferdinand’s claim, so instead he rolled his eyes. “Don’t get off topic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not!” Ferdinand shouldered Hubert; Embrienne bounced herself off Thanily’s head with every word he said. “If we do not take the time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, or the moments we have with each other, then what is the point of it all? Look at that fox over there, leaping into the snow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, there was a small orange shape sneaking through the snow. It tilted its head in apparent confusion, then pounced. A small cloud of snow puffed up; when it faded all the two men saw of the fox was its hind legs and bushy tail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ferdinand, foxes do it to hunt for mice under the snow. So they don’t starve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand merely smiled up at him, and the edges of his world went just a little soft. “That may be, but you cannot tell me they find no joy in it.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>No matter how much Hubert protested, Ferdinand could not let the idea go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is because you are a hopeless romantic,” Embrienne teased, back in their office. Ferdinand shrugged; who was he to deny it? He was Ferdinand and Embrienne von Aegir, after all, and part of that meant he always felt emotions and convictions quite deeply. Grand gestures, or even the smaller ones, were the only way he knew how to convey the depth of his feelings. That is what he did with Dorothea, back in those peaceful days at the academy. And it was the only way he knew to express the full breadth of his affection and love for Hubert. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hubert.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He could not help but laugh, and neither could Embrienne, his heart and soul. Ah, Dorothea was right, even if she did not know why at the time. How could his dear Embrienne be anything other than a bee, a dutiful and devoted member of the hive, an animal who would fly incredible distances to gather the sweetest nectar, all for the benefit of others? An animal who would sacrifice its very life for the sake of the hive? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And how could Hubert’s own Thanily be any form other than a fox? She, he, the two of them were more than just a cunning trickster, the fairytale thief. There was that flair for the dramatic, so obvious on the face and even more so once you knew to look. Hubert was not merely a sycophant lapdog, but independent in his devotion. Even if Hubert never acknowledged it, Ferdinand could see, now, just how much he cared, and how that care had grown to encompass the Strike Force and beyond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goddess (if Sothis truly was a goddess or even existed in the first place; just how many lies had they been carefully taught?), if only he could reach back in time. He would throttle the hubris and myopia out of his younger self, the arrogant fool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Embrienne sighed as she settled down against the bridge of his nose. “I believe most people harbor similar sentiments against their younger selves, in one form or another.” A pause. “Though I suppose that is not precisely helpful or comforting at this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh of surrender, Ferdinand set aside his half-drafted proposal. Some specifics of the educational reform bill would have to wait for Dorothea’s return from Brigid regardless; he could afford to table it for now. Embrienne buzzed off his nose and landed on the tip of his writing quill, so that he would not have to go cross-eyed to maintain eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Embrienne, I am a hopeless romantic. This is not news to anybody, least of all you. Why bring it up now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Garland Moon will not be a time for peace until the fighting is done. However, winter is a time of...dormancy, perhaps, if not actual peace. So perhaps—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps we could craft a similar gift. Ah, that is a lovely idea, my dear Embrienne! Only, what would we use in place of flowers? It would have to be something easily available in both winter and wartime, while still aesthetically pleasing and fitting Hubert’s tastes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both fell silent, contemplating their options as they looked around the room. Hubert could wield little more than a lance, and Ferdinand did not dare touch any spellbooks. He did not wish to waste fabric, and his embroidery skills were laughable compared to Bernadetta’s anyway. Just the thought of the mutilated embroidered flower crown that he would inevitably make placed on Hubert’s head, next to that beautiful piece of embroidery that their reclusive companion had made for him, was enough to make Ferdinand shudder. Particularly since every member of the Strike Force has gotten something from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand picked up the embroidered black eagle pin, a badge of honor of sorts that Bernadetta had handmade for every member of the Black Eagle Strike Force. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship; the “feathers” almost looked real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand turned the pin over in his hands, an idea blooming in his mind. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Even more snow had fallen last night, though it did stop early in the morning. This was Hubert’s favorite part of winter. Snow blanketed land and tree alike, and muffled the entire world. The air was bright and cold, the atmosphere put Hubert to mind of that echoing almost-silence in the seconds after the ringing of a high-pitched bell. Nobody was around; there were not even animal tracks to break that pristine snowfall. The only one to dirty it would be him and Thanily. A smear of charcoal and a flash of flame against this white canvas; he and Thanily felt like the only creatures in the entire world </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look at you, getting all poetic,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thanily teased across their bond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re your thoughts as much as mine,” Hubert replied. “Something about seeing fresh snow and the quiet sets my mind to wandering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanily pressed a paw into the snow. “It always has.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be remarkably difficult for someone to sneak up on us, not to mention most people have no desire to brave the cold. I suppose it gives me a moment’s respite.” Just a few minutes to breathe, a few minutes in the snow and sun, before withdrawing to his shadows and the two wars he and Her Majesty waged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Hubert! I thought I might find you here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or not. Ferdinand’s shout did not cut through the silence so much as take a warhammer to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Though if we’re being honest, there are worse options for an intrusion on our time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like a sudden attack by Those Who Slither. Or an avalanche.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ferdinand,” he said out loud. “Finished with your proposal already? I had no idea you were so eager to see it torn to shreds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I have placed my proposal on hold for the time being. I cannot complete the final details without Dorothea’s input, and she is in Brigid for the time being.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” said Thanily. “You really are looking forward to a complete evisceration of your education bill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh hush, you silly fox,” Embrienne teased back. The little bee was a bit more active than usual, buzzing up and down just off Ferdinand’s shoulder. Ferdinand himself seemed a little bit twitchy, and seemed to have concealed something in his jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand must have noticed his suspicious glare because he immediately started fumbling inside his jacket. “I know that the Garland Moon will not be a time for peace until after the war, but the Pegasus Moon can be a time for romance, even if it is too cold for flowers or weddings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The circlet in his hands was simple, made of silver and steel. Hubert was not quite sure where Ferdinand could have obtained it. But it was clear where he obtained the feathers. They were pegasus feathers, not the long primaries that would have looked ridiculous on the circlet but the slightly shorter secondaries, woven into the circlet like a laurel wreath of victory. It was not a garland of flowers, but Hubert always loved pegasi far more than blooms. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ferdinand</span>
  </em>
  <span> had made this for him, with his bare hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…Ferdinand, you made this yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “The stablemasters keep the molted pegasus feathers for imping any future ones that break in training or battle. I was able to exchange my labor for a couple dozen of the secondaries. It is no wreath of flowers or victory laurels, but I hope you find it satisfactory all the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he did; even he could not help but be touched by this gesture. But could he wear this? As the Minister of the Imperial Household, as the grim shadow of Her Majesty, he who would cut a bloody path, he had a reputation of one who reveled in bloodshed to maintain…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanily, the shape of his soul, saying all the words he could not bring himself to utter, stepped forward “I’ll wear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Ferdinand beamed, a second sun in his vision, as he moved to hand the feather crown over to Hubert, so that he could lay it on her head. But she shocked him once again by saying, “Ferdinand, it’s okay. You can place it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if Hubert’s heart thudded to as stop in his chest, just for a moment, before starting up again wild and frantic. No, Thanily could not possibly be saying...what he thought she was saying. To willingly allow the hands of another on her?  To let somebody else, even if that somebody else was Ferdinand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> her? Ferdinand himself drew back, Embrienne still and stunned on the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanily, please do not feel as if you are obliged to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s not an obligation. I want to.” She took a shuddering breath, her tail twitching. “And it’s Ferdinand. So it will be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Very well.” He knelt before Thanily deep enough for his cloak to trace the snow, with a reverence that took Hubert’s breath away. He could feel the warmth and nervous anticipation from Thanily, those moments stretched out forever. Embrienne kept her gaze fixed on Hubert. One word, one twitch, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Ferdinand would immediately stop. He would not dare to even consider otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert nodded, unable to trust himself with words, and watched Ferdinand’s hand lower the feathered crown onto Thanily’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watched as his heart jumped and Thanily rose up to meet him, her head against his hands like they belonged there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert was dimly aware of Ferdinand’s gasp, the crown slipping onto Thanily’s head, but that was nothing compared to the overwhelming transcendence of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was not a poetic man, but there were no words. He had no words for this, this overwhelming sense of power and peace and </span>
  <em>
    <span>rightness</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How could anybody even attempt to capture this experience in words? Dimly, he noticed Ferdinand’s hand buried in the thick orange fur around his Thanily’s neck, almost the same shade as the paladin’s bright orange hair. It was sheer coincidence, of course. Thanily had settled in the bowels of the palace, back when Ferdinand was nothing more than a thorn in his side, when he even thought about the man at all. But that just added to the poetry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ferdinand was still holding Thanily, holding his daemon, even though the feathered crown was already snug around her ears. Those ears were out and relaxed, and she gave a little sigh in his Ferdinand’s arms. This man, this insufferable, optimistic, bright and energetic man. The eternal thorn in his side, migrated to his heart where it lodged there, a now-welcome guest. Oh, he was eternally grateful to have let someone in. All those years of wariness, warding himself against the world and enemies at every turn. He had opened those walls just a little bit and like the sun Ferdinand came streaming in, making his own shadows all the more stark and real with that beaming presence. And he was so very grateful for it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hubert did not say, “I love you,” but that was okay. There was no need for words here. This? The snow around them, the warmth of Ferdiand’s hand on Thanily? The sudden bright energy of Embrienne on his nose, mirrored in Ferdiand’s shining eyes? The promise of a better world within their grasp? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was enough.</span>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
</p>
  <p>
    <a href="https://twitter.com/travastila">by travastila</a>
  </p>
  <p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! As always, I hope you enjoyed and see you around, pretty soon!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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